Program: Lovers
by Jaenera Targaryen
Summary: Twenty years after the events of Alea Iacta Est, Sakura takes measures in case she dies or worse completing her magnum opus. Said measures will drag Shirou into a spiral of lust, sexual desire and satisfaction, and horror. Spin-off of Alea Iacta Est.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Fate franchise it belongs to Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon.

Program: Lovers

Part I

"_Whatever happened to self-respect?_" Sakura Tohsaka, first and thus far, _only _apprentice to Touko Aozaki asked herself as she carefully made incisions into her index finger. Carefully carving a niche into the flesh of her finger, she then inserted a construct made from bio-synthetic composite, and riddled with micro-circuitry of her own design that would interface with the nerves in her finger, and through them, her magic circuits.

Using reinforcement along with her ocular implants to zoom in to a level comparable to a neurosurgeon's microscope, Sakura switched the tool she was holding to one which could fuse the neural interface with the nerves, and began the painstaking task of doing just that, one by one. It would take hours to finish, the open wound in her index finger kept from infection only by a very small bounded field set around her hand, and setting down the tool, Sakura pumped prana into her circuits.

Just a small amount, enough to run diagnostics with, and not to really activate her newest implant. It wouldn't do to set it off too early, after all. The payload had taken years to design and months more afterward to actually produce and stabilize, and even now much remained a gamble.

Still, sometimes one had to take a risk in order to succeed. Rolling the hard six, one might call it, while others would call it going big or going home.

Sakura smiled as the injector system tested out fine, and the miniaturized containment and control systems indicated her nano-puppets were standing by and ready for deployment. Ending the diagnostic, Sakura picked up her tools, and began to graft vat-grown flesh over and around the implant, reconstructing her finger back to its previous shape, and finished it with vat-grown skin.

A simple healing spell to complete the reconstruction procedure followed, and then Sakura dispelled the field.

"_Whatever happened to self-respect?_" Sakura asked herself again, as she stood up, flexing her right hand. "_Oh right…_"

Sakura glanced to the other room of her workshop, where her _magnum opus _rested and waited only for the final component to be completed. One more step before she could apply for a mastery. One more step to prove to her master that the past twenty-one years of their lives had not been wasted, that she – Sakura – was a worthy legacy for the great and mighty Touko Aozaki, and not just some runaway waif that had been picked up for curiosity's sake and who had subsequently been taught the grand magus' secrets out of misplaced sympathy.

One final step…

…but it was a step that could literally cost Sakura her soul.

Sakura was a magus. She did not fear death. But she feared failure, of everything she had ever learned and achieved simply…ending.

Is there nothing more?

Could I go no further?

Is this all I can do or be?

Normally, Sakura would answer that once she was a master in her own right, she would take on an apprentice or more, to ensure that once her time was past, more could be found, more distances covered, and more done and made. But that was just the thing: once she was a master in her own right.

She wasn't one. Not yet…and she greatly risked losing everything before she gained the right to call herself a master. And if she wasn't a master, she had no right to take apprentices of her own.

So another solution was needed, in case she fell short of this last hurdle, and paid the ultimate price for it. The implant in her finger was part of that solution. If it worked, then even if she failed to complete her magnum opus, something of herself would be left behind to carry on where she failed. Not necessarily the optimal solution…but it was a satisfactory one.

That it would allow her to strike a critical blow against her hated older sister was a bonus.

With that thought in mind, Sakura left to get dressed. She had an appointment to keep, a man to seduce, and a heart to break.

This was going to be _fun_.

* * *

"…remind me again why I agreed to this." Shirou Emiya grumbled. He never liked Sakura Tohsaka, who was, in his honest opinion, a complete and utter bitch with few redeeming qualities. It was…perplexing, really, why Rin insisted on maintaining her (very) strained relationship with the younger woman, especially when Sakura essentially saw their relationship as more of an amusing diversion instead of a true, sibling relationship.

"Because your girlfriend will cry if you fail to treat me with due courtesy." Sakura said from across their table in a high-end restaurant with a fine view of the London skyline.

"Funny…I never once thought you treated her with courtesy."

"In my defense, I would say I have been the soul of courtesy since our little adventure in Moldavia ten years ago."

"…for a magus."

Sakura nodded in concession. "Touché." She admitted as a waiter served them white wine to accompany their cold starters, green salad garnished with tuna.

Shirou snorted before watching Sakura for a few moments, the young woman washing down lettuce, tomatoes, and onions with elegant sips of white wine, every inch a society girl in the Court of the Valueleta Family (i.e. the Clock Tower's Department of Creation). "Not going to eat?" she asked.

"…I am." Shirou eventually said. He might not particularly like Sakura, but he wasn't an ill-bred oaf no matter how some of his peers in the Department of General Fundamentals or in Japan might call him that. Sakura was paying for this dinner between them, and so was essentially extending a polite hand of hospitality to him.

One did not turn away such a hand, especially when one has already accepted it in part.

Even more so, as Shirou considered himself _better _than her. If he treated her with…scorn, and contempt here and now, he'd be sinking to her level. And he would never do that.

He was better than that.

Besides, it would eventually get back to Rin, and she would cry, as it would be a setback to her dream of eventually welcoming Sakura back into the fold as a proper and fully-accepted and loved member of the Tohsaka family once again. A foolish dream, Shirou thought (and ignoring the mocking voice of a certain white-haired, and supernaturally-tanned Counter-Guardian on who was Shirou to call people's dreams foolish considering their shared dream), but if it made Rin smile…

…then for her sake…

Shirou tucked into his dinner, and then as they finished with cold starters, warm starters followed, corn chowder served with freshly-baked bread. Another bottle of white wine was opened, and by the end of this course, Shirou found himself rubbing a temple. "Strange," Sakura asked with a raised eyebrow. "You're not usually this much of a lightweight. Did something happen earlier?"

"…I must have drunk too much during the flight." Shirou said, unable to disagree with Sakura that he wasn't usually this much of a lightweight.

Sakura looked taken aback. "What exactly were you doing that you ended up drinking on a plane?" she asked. "That's not like you."

"None of your business, that's what." Shirou snapped. "I don't ask you about your research, do I?"

"Fair enough…moving on, when do you plan to marry my little sister?"

Shirou – as usual – ground his teeth at that mocking description, which Sakura had swindled Rin out of a decade ago. In return for 'normalized' relations, their positions would be switched. Henceforth, Rin would consider Sakura the big sister, while Sakura would consider Rin the little sister.

He was saved from making a response as the fish course arrived, salmon cooked and served with creamy mushroom sauce. Another bottle of white wine was opened, and then both Sakura and Shirou were tucking in once more, every so often sparring verbally about the issues between them. By the time the course was over, Shirou's mind was even more clouded than before, and as the waiters replaced their plates and utensils before serving the meat course, found his eyes raking over Sakura's form, and mentally undressing her.

The poisonous woman had dressed herself in a sleeveless dress of red silk that clung to and accentuated her voluptuous body, and noticing the long-sleeved robe of black silk that hung on the chair behind her, Shirou's mind couldn't help but conjure up images of how…tempting, it made her look. It was as though…

…yes…all he had to do…

…all he had to do was step forward…open the robe…and then…

Shirou blinked, and swallowed dryly, feeling the tightness in his loins even as a bottle of red wine was opened and served. A part of him screamed that something was very wrong here, that he needed to leave while he still could, that he was walking into a trap, but the fog in his mind made it just…so…hard…to…think…

Through it all, Sakura continued to smile, their food spiked – thanks to generous application of mental interference on the kitchen staff – with a special elixir she'd based on Shirou's blood (and thus only activating on his ingestion) to make it so much easier to take down his higher thought functions. If all went well, he'd be akin to wounded prey in the water, and with her as the shark.

That thought made her smile all the wider, at how…appropriate, the analogy was as she sliced into her steak and blood oozed onto her plate. She took a sip of red wine, and there another analogy was.

What a wonderful night.

* * *

Shirou couldn't think.

All he could focus on was the soft, feminine body in his arms, his heat merging with hers as they ran their hands over each other, the big and soft breasts pressing against his chest, the fingers raking down his back, their tongues dueling with each other for dominance, and the painful hardness in his crotch. It was a miracle they even managed to keep their hands off each other on the way to Sakura's apartment, and once they were inside Shirou was pushing her against a wall, sloppily kissing her even as he pushed her legs open and ground against her pussy. It was hot, and wet, clearly wanting him just as much as he wanted her.

Sakura giggled as they pulled away from each other for their breath. "Eager, aren't we?" she asked. And then slipping past, she coquettishly beckoned for him to follow to her room, Shirou struggling to undress as he stumbled after her. His coat, shirt, pants and undershirt, and then his boxers followed one after the other to the floor…

…and then he paused, in her doorway, what little of his screaming reason left vanishing at the sight before him.

Sakura waited for him on the bed, her clothes and underclothes alike discarded on the floor, breasts gently heaving with desire. And her pussy…oh, her pussy…

…shaven down to the last dark curl, it looked so inviting, pink folds glistening and waiting for him to shove them aside.

Sakura wasn't a virgin…not by any stretch of the imagination. They had all been mere flings, one-night stands, even prana transfers born of necessity…

…that said, she had to admit she'd never had a partner like Shirou before. His cock wasn't just the biggest or the largest, it was the grandest, throbbing with pre-cum as he hurriedly approached and threw himself on top of her.

Sakura stared up, into Shirou's golden eyes, and through the haze of lust and desire wondered how long until she could say three words, and those eyes flickered with the colors of the rainbow as the Lovers Card found a proper occupant. And then Shirou's hands were grabbing her hips, pulling her close, their thighs slapping against each other. His cock fell against her belly, smearing her pale flesh with pre-cum, and dipping his head captured her lips with a greedy kiss.

Their arms wound together, red and black hair tickling against each other.

Sakura could feel his cock, hard and hot against her thigh, and then she moaned as he pushed into her, feeling so snug and tight inside of her. How long had it been since she'd last had a sexual encounter?

And even then, they were never like this. None of them had been as big, or as…deliciously forbidden, as him.

It made the whole act so much better, even as his thick and hard cock slowly pushed inch by inch into her. It pulsed against her flesh, growing bigger and harder as he claimed her insides and molded them to his shape, until finally he bottomed out inside of her.

Thankfully for them both, she was so wet for him…

_What a wonderful kisser…_

_…did little sister train him?_

_If so, then here's thank you for this wonderful prize._

…their eyes met again, gold against blue, and Sakura felt herself get even wetter for him, and Shirou even more overcome at how…welcoming, she was. He moaned into her mouth as they kissed again, and he tightened his hold around her, as though she might slip away and vanish if he did otherwise.

He began to thrust, in and out, moving slowly at first, to savor this willing and lovely female beneath him…

Rin was tight and wet too but…

…Sakura…here and now…with Shirou's rationality drowned by drugs, alcohol, and sheer lust, all he could think of was how breathtakingly beautiful she was, how her breasts were so big and soft, whether when he kneaded them with his hands or when they pressed against his chest, and even the cruelty of her eyes and the amorality of her character made her all the more attractive here and now, like a demon in Human form, forbidden fruit that had fallen into his hands and into which his teeth were now sinking, filling his mouth with flavors and sensations he had never tasted and savored before, and which he would never forget.

Faster…

…faster…

…harder…

…harder…

…Shirou thrust as hard as he could, Sakura bucking her hips back against him, driving him on even as he fucked her with all he had. Kissing wasn't enough, as he left hickeys along her neck and sucked at her breasts, driving her to one screaming orgasm after another. Angling his thrusts, Shirou soon found her G-spot, and if not for the glowing flower on her hand that was the crest the Edelfelt had given her years ago, Sakura would have lost herself as much as Shirou had to the haze of alcohol, lust, and pleasure, and made it all for nothing.

She wrapped her arms and legs tight against him as she came again and again, Shirou grunting like an animal into her ear as he kept on thrusting against her. Words spilled from her lips, words which he failed to register much less remember in his animalistic frenzy, the wooden frame of Sakura's bed creaking threateningly as he pounded her like a beast, their fluids soaking into Sakura's sheets and mattress.

He couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop himself. He wouldn't stop, until the very end of his endurance, bottoming out inside of her and grunting as he came, spilling his seed into her, their shared moans merging as they clung to each other, Shirou not noticing in his sense of fulfilment the needle stabbing from Sakura's finger and into his neck, pumping nano-puppets into his spinal cavity, where they would propagate and begin the long task of reconstructing him from the inside out.

Drawing and attaching the strings, as it were.

It was as much from fulfilled purpose as it was with base satisfaction at feeling his warmth inside of her…

…warmth that could give her a legacy should she fail her trial…

…that she smiled up at him for, Shirou leaning down to give her a gentle kiss even as he pulled his softening cock out of her, excess cum dribbling out of her pussy even as he rolled onto his back beside her. Giggling with satisfaction, Sakura rolled onto her side and cuddled against him, together pulling the blanket over themselves as they allowed themselves to fall into the darkness of exhaustion and sleep.

* * *

The moment Shirou awoke, it was as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. Scrambling out of bed and swaying on his feet, he stared with horror at the slumbering form of the hateful woman who he had fucked last night, and he felt the bile and guilt rising up to choke him.

Still asleep, Sakura moaned as though in complaint at the loss of his bodily warmth, curling up on top of the warm part of the bed he'd been lying on, and giggling in her sleep at the memories of the previous night. The noise started Shirou out of his stupor, and moving as quickly as was quietly possible, he gathered his clothes and putting them back on, fled.

Unknown to him, Sakura had woken up to the sound of his belt buckle clinking as he quickly put his pants back on, though she still pretended to be asleep. Once he was gone from her apartment, she rolled onto her back, and stretched her limbs to a smile at the pleasant soreness of her lower parts.

She pouted though, when a quick diagnostic spell showed nothing had taken, though she would see again in a few hours just in case. If not…

…well, she could always seduce him again. It wasn't like he could avoid her.

Ocular implants flashed as they displayed remotely-provided information, from the nano-puppets swimming inside of Shirou's bloodstream and infiltrating into his nervous system. Progress was going well, if a bit slower than expected due to unexpectedly-effective internal countermeasures by his immune system…no, not just the immune system, his body as a whole.

Interesting…

…and useless…

"Metropolis Protocol," Sakura whispered, granting her nano-puppets near-complete autonomy to perform their given task. "Activate."

* * *

A/N

Never thought I'd be writing NTR…and yet here we are.

Like _Blue Shifting_, this is a spin-off of my fic _Alea Iacta Est_, set in a potential future of that story after about twenty years or so. Yes, Sakura wants to NTR Shirou both to hurt Rin, and to have a kid in case she ends up biting the dirt (or worse) to complete her _magnum opus_. While an apprentice is her preferred legacy (I need to insert an obligatory Darth Sidious reference soon whether here or in the main story), a child is a satisfactory substitute in her current situation.

One more thing: some of you will inevitably point out Avalon would render Sakura's little toys useless…except without Saber around, Avalon is inactive and unusable. Thus, it is the inverse that will happen (unless Shirou tears himself to pieces countering Sakura's reconstruction of his body), i.e. Shirou's internal-physical idiosyncrasies useless in the face of Aozaki puppetcraft.


End file.
